


Mea Culpa

by River_of_Dreams



Series: Patchworks [2]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Gen, God as character, Redemption, The Cage, anything can be read as (pre-)slash if you try, can be read as Lucifer/Michael, imperfect God, sort of
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-25
Updated: 2014-11-25
Packaged: 2018-02-27 00:08:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,861
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2671547
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/River_of_Dreams/pseuds/River_of_Dreams
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After eons, God visits His two children in the Cage. The words He has for them are more than surprising:</p><p> </p><p>  <i>"I'm sorry."</i></p>
            </blockquote>





	Mea Culpa

**Author's Note:**

  * Translation into Русский available: [Mea Culpa](https://archiveofourown.org/works/11319909) by [captain_kink](https://archiveofourown.org/users/captain_kink/pseuds/captain_kink)



> Warning: My take on God as a character may be considered blasphemous by some (neither perfect nor absolutely good). I honestly have no idea what you are doing watching Supernatural if you mind that sort of thing, but I’m aware the Judeo-Christian (and Islamic, and Bahá’ist?) God is the only deity the show’s creators wouldn’t touch, except for making Him an absent father to end all absent fathers. But I promise not to make him into a human-eating monster ;)
> 
> As always, comments, criticism, corrections and any other feedback will be most appreciated. :)

At first they fought. They clashed and tore into each other, trading vicious blows and words that burned like acid. They crawled apart, healed and clashed again for longer than a star’s lifetime.

Gradually, the periods of exhausted rest became longer and longer. There were more words, bitter and reproachful. By the time another star would near its end, sweetness of memories started to slip in occasionally, nearly unnoticed at first, secretly cherished later.

Now there is silence. It’s not exactly companionable; there is too much betrayal between them for that. But there’s a sort of peace at last. They’d both burned out, Lucifer’s rage and Michael’s faith, and what they now have in common is grief, deep disappointment – in each other, in their Father, and in themselves – and a wish they’d chosen a different path, although neither will admit as much to the other.

Their jagged edges came to fit together as they are pressed against each other in the confines of the Cage, two broken halves of a broken whole.

o.O.o

They don’t even notice Him at first. He appears in a vessel, tiny and insignificant against the vastness of their true forms, and the Cage accomodates Him so it doesn’t seem any more crowded than before.

He clears His throat and smiles a smile that is more uncertain than anything they’ve ever witnessed from Him.

„Hello, boys.“

For something they had both wished for so fervently, once upon a time, his appearance earns very little reaction. There’s barely a ripple across the oddly peaceful disharmony of their combined Graces.

„What are you doing here?“ asks Lucifer, only faintly hostile.

Michael remains silent. Not so long ago, the mere fact of God’s presence would have been enough to rekindle his faith and make him lash out at Lucifer for using that tone with their Father. Not anymore. After everything, he’s still too obedient to speak in a similar manner, but he’s more than willing to let his brother voice their discontent.

God takes a deep breath, unnecessary and impossible in the emptiness of the Cage.

"I’m sorry.”

 _That_ gets a reaction: a violent chord like the sound of organ breaking, like sky-high towers crumbling down to dust and twisted metal. It resonates across the Cage, between the two shocked archangels and their Father who very carefully doesn’t add his own notes into it.

"Are you… testing us, Father?“ asks Michael tentatively, tone a peculiar mixture between deference and outrage.

"No, Michael. I’m apologizing for the mistakes I have made.”

Michael shifts, distressed, and is caught and steadied by Lucifer’s Grace, neither of them even noticing.

“You are perfect,” he protests, but it’s uncertain, more of a question than a statement.

God smiles ruefully.

"I thought so, back then. I was… not young, but inexperienced. It’s easy to think you’re perfect when there’s no one to oppose you.“

"I opposed you,“ says Lucifer quietly.

God’s smile becomes fond, although a trace of regret remains.

"That you did. And I didn’t know what to do with it.“

Lucifer gives a violent shove that rattles the boundaries of the Cage.

"This,“ he says deceivingly mildly, "doesn’t look like not knowing what to do.“

God nods, not smiling anymore. "But none of the punishments ever worked, did they? In the beginning you’d ask for forgiveness sometimes, but you never understood what was wrong. I never explained. And I never listened to you either, too certain that it’s you who is wrong.“

"So what, now? You finally see what abominations you’ve created?“ Lucifer’s voice is too quiet, too soft for a challenge, old contempt washed out by eons.

"I have created them in your image.“

Lucifer rears back as if struck. Michael shifts, moves slightly in between his brother and his Father, but remains silent, pushing back his own shock from earlier to pay attention.

"I thought you’d like them,“ God continues. "You were always the one to do things your own way, to defy my expectations. You were more than I intended when I created you. I tried to give a little bit of that to them: Free will, and the creativity and strength to use it.“

"You gave them what you punished me for and expected me to love them for it!“ Lucifer snarls.

"Yes.“ The single word is heavy with regret.

Silence, stiffling and painful, falls into the Cage at that.

"In my defense,“ God continues after a while, "I have created them tiny and nearly helpless, because I knew there’s no way to tell how they’d turn out. The amount of damage you could do in comparison… And I punished them a lot, too, before I learned to let them run free and just watch.“

"And how happy are you with your little experiment? Ruining the planet, slaughtering each other in wars, the rich starving the poor, all that?“

"Happy enough to want it to continue,“ God replies mildly. Michael tries to suppress his reaction, but it is as clear as a cry anyway, the final confirmation that his Father did not, in fact, condone his actions ripping into him mercilessly. God spares him a glance, but there’s more He wants to say.

"Here’s the thing, boys. Humanity runs its own Apocalypse without Heaven or Hell interfering. It’s good _and_ evil. Depending on which tendency prevails, it will destroy or save itself.“

"So letting us fight, that was just fun to you?“ Lucifer asks bitterly. He isn’t trying to comfort Michael, but he does stand slightly closer to him than even the Cage forces him to.

God sighs. "Lucifer, if I told you to stop, you wouldn’t even if you wanted to, just to spite me. And if I told only Michael, I would put him at a disadvantage. I did kind of hope you’d call it off on your own.“ He sighs again and finally turns to his eldest son. "Michael, I’m sorry. You always manage to surprise me with how much you’re willing to do for me. I should never have pitted you two against each other. I shouldn’t have made you choose between me and your brother. I thought… Back then, I had thought that maybe if it’s you standing against him, Lucifer will listen, and then it was too late.“

Michael stays silent, off balance. Lucifer considers it all and then moves even closer to him, the uneven edges of their Graces locking nearly as seamlessly as before, presenting a united front to their Father with only half his brother’s consent.

"So you say you are sorry. Why now? If you already knew during the Apocalypse that you don’t want it to happen, you could have come earlier.“

God looks straight at him, then shrugs, that rueful smile making it back into his expression.

"I could have. But I figured after everything you’ve been through, you deserved the time to work out your differences more than I deserve forgiveness from either of you.“

Michael fidgets, uneasy, but doesn’t protest. Lucifer isn’t nearly as subtle. "You were right.“

After a moment, Michael speaks. "Father… Have you come only to explain?“

He sounds defeated, and Lucifer radiates both smugness and protective anger at that. There’s barely any hope between the two. It’s clear what reply they expect.

God watches them for a while, sad.

"I truly have lost you both, haven’t I?“ he comments softly. "To answer your question, no, I haven’t. I thought maybe you’d like out? Not at your full power,“ He hastens to add before they can react. "You two can destroy a planet between you, and I’m not going to risk that just yet. But you’d have enough to protect yourselves. I’m thinking the level of a seraph?“

"And what are your conditions?“ Lucifer asks coldly.

"No conditions. Just give yourself the opportunity to appreciate Creation, I know you didn’t have much of that since I introduced humanity to you. And don’t break the world. There’s enough of that going on without you.“

That catches Michael’s attention. "What is happening, Father?“

God sighs. "Most lately? Metatron made a mess. Ruined my incognito, too: stopped the line of prophets and had the last one killed.“

Michael looks taken aback. "Prophets? This whole time, you were speaking through the prophets?“

God shakes his head. "More like hitching a ride, feeding them bits of information and watching what they’ll do with it.“ He grins a bit. "I got to have parents that way, too. Taught me a lot. Anyway. I mean it. I’m letting you out so that you can enjoy yourself, breathe a little. You deserve it. Leave Metatron to Gabriel.“

"Gabriel?“ For the first time during the whole conversation, hope flares in Lucifer’s Grace, terrible in its intensity.

God smiles at him, gentle. "Did you really think I’d let my first and most beautiful children just disappear when they die? No. He stayed with me for a time, and then I sent him back because I needed him.“ He fidgets a bit, sheepish. "It was actually him who convinced me just letting you out won’t be enough as an apology. He… had a few choice words about it.“

Lucifer laughs suddenly. "I can see him doing that. Oh, brother.“

"Why Gabriel?“ Michael interjects. "What is Raphael doing?“

His Father’s face falls. "Raphael… will be staying with me for a while longer. He needs to rest, and to heal. I’m afraid he took my absence the worst out of you four.“

"He died?“

"He tried to restart the Apocalypse after you fell into the Cage. There was a war in Heaven because of it. I’ll tell you more before we leave. Now, let’s talk vessels. Any requests?“

"Sam Winchester,“ Lucifer replies immediately.

"Not him. I don’t think it’s a good idea to give you a body of a living person.“

"Sam Winchester is still alive? It must have been centuries…“ Lucifer trails off thoughtfully, his focus narrowing on his Father.

"Only a few years,“ God confirms his suspicions, looking vaguely uneasy. "I wanted to talk to you soon, so I accelerated the Cage as fast as it would go.“

"My previous vessel, then,“ Lucifer decides after short deliberation. "If you make him able to hold me this time.“

"Of course. Michael?“

"Anyone from the line will do.“

"The last one, then? You’ll look like brothers to human eyes, too.“

Michael gives his consent wordlessly, and God smiles at them both.

"Here we go.“

o.O.o

Even to the archangels’ senses, the transition is instantaneous. One moment they are cramped in the confines of the Cage, the next they are standing somewhere on the western coast of North America, each folded comfortably into his own vessel, spacious without a human soul to share it. A brief summary of the events of the last few years is fresh on their mind.

They don’t discuss it. They don’t say a word. They slowly unfurl their wings, stretching wide under pale winter sun like northern lights, and don’t comment on how their frayed edges still fit together where they overlap.

The day is cold, damp and breezy this close to the sea, and freedom tastes of salt.

**Author's Note:**

> Yes, I've decided to expand on the "Chuck is God" idea and made God squat in every prophet :) So the vessel in which he's talking to his boys here is Kevin. Well, Kevin's body.
> 
> If it seemed to you He gave much less attention to Michael than to Lucifer here, that was intentional. Gabriel claims God loved Lucifer best; I tried to reflect that. After all, it's so easy to take the obedient child for granted.
> 
> Btw, they address Raphael as a "he" because while angels take vessels of any gender, they usually refer to each other as brothers.
> 
> Bonus points for anyone who has noticed the "four tastes" motif there. :D It... kind of happened on its own, except the last, salt.
> 
> I know this kind of looks like setting for a longer fic, but this is honestly all I intended to write. So if it gave you ideas and you want to take it and run with it, you're more than welcome, just link back to this fic. Or if it works like backstory for your existing work, I'll be flattered if you link them.  
> If it almost works for you but you'd need to change some details, just let me know, I'd probably be willing to write a version just for you. And I'd be happy to bounce ideas around, too. I just don't want to promise writing or co-writing, I'd probably regret that promise.  
> EDIT: Although I found myself continuing this 'verse, the offer still stands. I'd love to see what other authors would do with this premise!
> 
> Anyway. What did you think? What worked for you? What didn't? Did anything seem confusing? Or to the contrary, too blatant? I live to learn :)


End file.
